


So this is how you died - in whispers no one wished to hear.(Wilbur Soot vent oneshot)

by haIcyon



Series: "abditory" - all my depressing oneshots. [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Lost Love, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Other, Pain, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 06:33:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29024280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haIcyon/pseuds/haIcyon
Summary: Two long lost friends on a phone call, swimming in the pain of now tied to the happiness of the past.orWilbur was left behind by all of his friends when march ended. His desperation for a reason grew so strong that he calls Schlatt. who just like wilbur, swims in memories of what their used to be.tw: underaged drinking, implied suicide, mental illness.
Series: "abditory" - all my depressing oneshots. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129313
Kudos: 11





	So this is how you died - in whispers no one wished to hear.(Wilbur Soot vent oneshot)

**Author's Note:**

> hey, this is my first oneshot since 2017. Its a small vent one. More Notes to the story at the end.

The walls were white. They always were. A big blank space of white, written over with quotes and emotinal outbursts, a way to express himself, a silent yet do loud rebellion written n shaky black. His eyes stared ar the little lines, scanning for nothing inparticular, and oh how it enranged him. Angst boiling in his veins, making his fingertips burn in pain old the cold of winter could give. If he had to write an analysis about the scenery he found himself in, he'd call it irrational anger. Anger that he held in himself.  
Wilbur never was an angry child. He used to be your friend, the kid that you knew, the friend of a friend that would swing around the beer in his hands and tell drunk stories long lost in the past, who would later in the night listen to your pain. Not a good child, the occasional bad grade, not too loud or quiet. But that changed. March changed him. March was when it all broke down, and god, what would he do to be in march again? To sit there, with his friends, not afraid, not in pain. The warm breeze of spring, smell of smoke and the sound of laughter, the feeling of bounds and trust floating softly through the air. He so badly wanted to cry, but there was nothing left to cry about. March visited like a big and heavy cloud over the sky, and he begged, so long, so hard, for march to leave him be. "For fucks sake" he'd whisper in broken nights, "please let me breath again". No matter how poetic he wished the analysis would be, he was still just a kid starring at a wall in the afternoon. So he gathered togheter all his energy to pick up his phone and open the device. His fingers started scrollng through his contacts, and once again, it hit him like it always did. There was no one to talk to. No one to listen to his pain. March took them with him. The overwhelming feeling of nothing hit him, so familiar in his nihilism, so painful and yet freeing. But something was different. It felt like a flame, but less then a warm burn, more like he ripped open his chest and placed ice cubes inside his heart, burning in his passion, freezing in his soul. And all of that was so overwhelming, that in a moment of desperation, he called Schlatt. It happend so fast that the realization took too long, and he nearly jumped at the faint "hello" of a way to familiar voice. What came after, was out of the brown haired boys control. "Youre a fucking bastard, Schlatt." The line went quiet. An eternity, or 5 seconds passed, and a inhale traveled into the boys ears. "What is this about?" "What is it-" he sat himself up "You, no, all of you- you- fucking left me. When was the last time you fucking called me?" it was march. Maybe Wilbur should have stopped there, but he just couldnt. "Remember when I asked you, when it was fucking march and I asked why you dont text me anymore, what did you say?" "That..I would change that." "And what did you do? What did all of you do?"  
September two years prior, was when Schlatt was invited into Wilburs life. And god, did he admire the boy. He locked eys with him in the halls, and a day later a tap on his shoulders changed his world. "Are you new?" The shorter male turned away from his new classmates and glanced at the way taller man. "Uh, yes." a smile flashed through the strangers face. "Guessed so, I never met someone like you here. I like the pin on your Backpack." It took the at he time freshly 16 year old a second, before he realised what the grunge-y dressed teen was talking about. His rainbow flag pin. "My names Wilbur. I want to lend you a hand." And Schlatt took Wilburs Hand. What would've happend if he never had? Soon he'd meet so many new people, came out to his parents, found a support system. Wilbur never let go of his hand. Not when Minx and Wilbur had a fall-out and Schlatt choose Minx. Not when Schlatt called him crying over a relapse. Not when Wilbur himself seemed too weak to even hold himself. Schlatt knew, Wilburs deep emotional breakdown rigt now was not the product of him victimizing himself, but truely, and utterly pain. Pain of being left behind. March, when he let go of Wilburs hand, and never grabbed it again. Finding new friends, leaving the other who promised him forever behind. "I cannot explain to you why" the older started, careful to sound soft, scared that any harsh words would make the other break. He knew Wilbur never talked about his feelings. He said nothing when he arrived to school drunk or when he didnt arrive at all. When Niki would whisper to him that french class made Wilbur ask the teacher to speak to the Student Council. The tall one was the person that people looked up to, despite being the youngest of them all. He wore a crown, he lead a kingdom, and hearing him on the other side of the speaker felt..wrong. "Why? Where did I do- where did i go wrong, Schlatt? Did I not try hard enough?" No words were there to handle the answer, a question left in the fallen, war torn kingdom. The situation was so bitter sweet. No one to blame. Both of them just kids stuck in a spot that they werent able to move away from. There were no apologys to be spoken, no plaster to help heal. So they left it at that.  
They left it there a while ago. No one ever got to know of Wilburs mental state, Schlatt told no tale. When the call came, no one was surprised. March was warm, was kind. January was cruel, cold, and held its hand out to Wilbur. In the end, no one was to be blamed when he took it, and when January passed, Wilbur passed with it.

**Author's Note:**

> hello again. Some things to the story:  
> 1\. I wanted to make sure that you realise, that this isnt Wilbur being an edgy teen, which he himself things he is, but that his pain is very real.  
> 2\. Schlatt himself sees that yes, he knows he fucked up and shouldve been there, but he doesnt know how, since Wilbur never asked for help. You know that one friend that is there for everyone, but keeps to himself? Thats Wilbur.  
> 3\. The pain is no ones fault. Schlatt isnt to blame, hes just as Wilbur helpless, not knowing how to handle this. Wilbur doesnt either. Both know this. This is why it ends with "No one was suprised when January took him". If you have a friend group of mentally unstable people, you know what I mean.
> 
> sending lots of love to everyone struggeling right now, pain will pass. January will pass. Please, stay for march again.


End file.
